A King's forgiveness
by Taytay47
Summary: Whilst kidnapped Arthur learns of Merlin's magic, and cannot forgive him of his betrayal. But when Camelot is threatened and magic is needed, will Merlin come back to his king before it's too late? Merthur/SLASH . Merlin whump throughout.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Merlin, all ideas belong to the BBC. **

**This is my first fanfic, if you like it please let me know. I hope you enjoy :)**

**Chapter 1**

Standing alone in the woods, a small pile of firewood cradled in his arms, Merlin stared unseeing into the trees, taking this time alone to let his mind wander through the events of last night- Again.

_The feeling of the hard oak door pressing against his back, as strong, confident hands traveled over his stomach and down to his waist, stroking, lingering there before continuing to move further down to…._

'Merlin!' Arthur's voice interrupted his daydreams. He turned slowly to face his king. 'Sire?'

Arthur's face was a mixture of exasperation and amused fondness. '20 minutes you've been gone collecting firewood and I come to find you standing around idle holding three sticks!'

Merlin felt his cheeks flush at hearing Arthur's words. Had it really been that long? 'Sorry, sire,' he mumbled, 'I got.. distracted..?'

'Distracted?' Arthur repeated, sounding unconvinced. 'And by what, Merlin, were you distracted by exactly?' he asked, stepping closer to his manservant. Merlin's cheeks blushed an even deeper shade of red as he recalled the memories he had been revisiting. 'Err…..' he struggled to think of an excuse.

'Yes?' Arthur pushed, continuing to move closer as he waited for a reply. Merlin began to edge backwards. He cleared his throat, staring at the damp forest floor, 'Umm….' His eyes flickered to Arthur's before darting back to stare at his feet, _'think think think!' _

'I'm waiting, Merlin' Arthur purred playfully. He was close now, very close. Merlin felt his back come into contact with a mossy tree trunk and he leaned against it, just as Arthur leaned into him.

'Well?' Arthur asked, 'Are you going to speak Merlin or are you simply going to stand there and continue staring at the undergrowth?'

Merlin's lips quirked at Arthur's irritation and he looked up to meet the brilliantly blue, inquisitive eyes that belonged to his king. They did not meet his gaze however, but were instead staring intently at Merlin's mouth. Merlin quirked his lips again, before slowly, and pointedly, licking them.

Arthur's breathing hitched slightly as he lifted his eyes to stare into Merlin's, before stepping in to press their mouths together earnestly. Merlin saw stars inside his head as he felt Arthur's hands roaming over his body again, before moving to rest on the tree either side of his head so Arthur could press their bodies together more tightly. The wood fell from his arms and lay, forgotten, at their feet.

Arthur felt Merlin's body heat radiate into him as he deepened their kiss. Nothing seemed to exist beyond their passion. All the times he had imagined a moment like this with his manservant, he had never thought it could feel like this; so perfect, so right… so complete. This man made him complete. Arthur knew even now, that he could never be without him. His life was in the hands of this skinny, goofy manservant. He had taken his heart; a thought that both terrified and delighted him.

They broke apart at the sound of a twig snapping, both mouths panting breathlessly, both faces flushed pink, both pairs of lips red and swollen.

Gwaine came into sight. 'Sire' he acknowledged. He turned to Merlin, grinning; 'Ah, merlin, I see Arthur managed to find you at last. You were gone quite a while. We had begun to worry that you had been viciously attacked by a particularly overbearing twig.'

Arthur chuckled, 'They were sticks I think you'll find, Gwaine. Three of them'

'Three!' the knight exclaimed, 'Good god Merlin, you're lucky to be alive!'

Merlin grinned before hurling one of the sticks at Gwaine's head. 'Very funny' he said, still smiling.

Their laughter was cut short however when they heard shouts coming from the camp, and the ringing sounds of metal hitting metal echoing through the trees towards them.

'Something's wrong!' Gwaine shouted as he ran back through the forest towards the other knights. As Merlin made to follow him Arthur caught his hand, 'Arthur?' he asked confused- why was he delaying? 'Arthur, what are you doi..'

'Merlin' his king interrupted him, his piercing blue eyes boring into his own. 'What?' he asked.

Arthur looked as though he was struggling for words, 'Arthur what is it?' Merlin urged.

The blue eyes continued to look at him before Arthur sighed deeply, his hands reaching up to cradle his manservant's face. '_Please _be careful' he cautioned quietly, 'Only, ..I..I cannot bear to think of losing you'

Arthur's head bowed at his confession, anguish crumpling his face. Merlin's hand cupped his chin and lifted his face up to look at him. 'Nor I you' he replied softly, before leaning in to kiss his king gently.

Pulling back he smiled at Arthur, before drawing his sword and running after Gwaine towards the sounds of the struggle ahead.

They had not gone far, however, when a huge man stepped out in front of them, a savage looking mace clasped in his oversized hand. 'Stop right there' he growled in a deep voice, raising his weapon a little, threateningly.

'What do you want with us?' Arthur asked. He shifted his body, poised for attack, face curling into a faint snarl as he assessed his opponent.

'Now now' a scorning voice purred from behind them. Merlin whirled round to face the owner of the voice; a lean unimpressive man with yellow rotting teeth. His thin hair was coated with grime and stuck to his oily forehead, which overshadowed beady green eyes and a think, beak-like nose. He smelt of sweat and stale alcohol, but that could not mask the stench of his breath. Merlin felt himself recoil in disgust.

The man smiled wickedly as he spoke again, 'no need to be so defensive, _sire_. After all, we only want to ask you some questions...' the sarcastic innocence in the man's voice made the hair on Arthur's neck stand on end. He barely had time to register the subtle nod of the head before the hulking man behind them knocked Merlin to the ground and a sharp pain behind his eyes caused the world to spin and darken, as the ground rushed up to meet him.

'Good work, Bekkron' the smaller man, Crone, said, 'Find the others and load these two onto the horses. We must bring them to Zabrack, he will be most pleased with what we have found'

Cruel grins formed on the men's faces as they grabbed the unconscious King and his beloved manservant by the feet, and began dragging them along the wet ground deeper into the forest.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Merlin, all rights belong to the BBC.**

**Thank you for being so nice about the first chapter I only hope this one does not disappoint!**

**Chapter 2**

Zabrack stood in the cold cell, observing the two unconscious bodies before him with bored disinterest.

'How hard did you hit them, Crone?' he asked disapprovingly, 'We need them awake if we want to make any progress. If I'd wanted them to be quiet I'd have had them killed.'

Crone shrunk back into the darkness. He feared his master; a cruel, impatient man.

'It was not I who hit them, master, it was Bekkron; he was the one who..'

'Do not blame that lumbering fool for your mistakes, Crone; it was you I put in charge, not he!'

Zabrack's shouts rang loud in the small room. One of the men on the floor began to stir. Without moving his eyes off of the prisoner Zabrack spoke again, 'Send word to the King that they are awake'

Crone nodded his head and made for the door.

'And Crone?'

The small man stopped, 'Yes, master?'

'Test my patience again and it is you who shall not be talking. Do you understand?'

Crone swallowed dryly and bowed his head, before shakily hurrying out of the room.

Zabrack smiled to himself as the other man left the room. He enjoyed the fear he stimulated in his men; that caused them to squirm under his gaze. His smiled faded as the man at his feet moaned and began to move. Treading slowly and quietly Zabrack stepped backwards into the shadow of a corner. He stopped and settled himself, waiting for his prey to wake; waiting to make his move.

* * *

><p>Arthur opened his eyes blearily, the blood in his head thrumming loudly, an intense ache accompanying every beat. He groaned and pressed a hand against where he guessed a large bruise would be forming.<p>

Where was he?

The last thing he remembered was being in the woods. He had been trying to get somewhere but he was stopped. They knocked Merlin to the ground and… Merlin!

Where was his manservant? Arthur opened his eyes wider, searching. He was facing a stone wall, lying on his side. Someone had removed his armour and his boots, the cold seeping through his clothes into his skin. Something pressing against his back was warm, however, and soft compared to the hard, icy floor.

'Merlin?' he called out again croakily, rolling over slowly only to be met by a head of familiar, messy, raven black hair.

Propping himself up on one elbow Arthur turned Merlin's face towards him. A dried line of blood ran down his cheek from his temple, but he seemed unharmed. He looked peaceful, and beautiful.

'Merlin?' Arthur said again, his hand on his cheek. No response. He shook him gently on the shoulder. 'Merlin!' he said, louder now. He needed to see him awake, to see those blue eyes open and alive. His manservant moaned quietly,

'Come on you idiot, wake up!'

* * *

><p>All Merlin could focus on was the pain in his head. It throbbed and hurt behind his eyes. He was only aware of the pain… and of a noise- muffled at first but becoming clearer. It sounded familiar. Something behind him shifted and he felt a warm hand turn his head, the pain intensifying momentarily at the movement.<p>

'Merlin?' something soft stroked across his cheekbone before resting there. He knew that voice; warm, comforting.

'Merlin!' the voice was getting louder, someone was shaking him gently. The fog in Merlin's head cleared a little and a small moan escaped his lips.

'Come on you idiot, wake up!'

That was Arthur's voice. He reached out to it, 'Arthur' he tried to say, but it came out as more of a mumble.

He heard someone let out a relieved sigh, before another hand came up to cradle his face and a soft kiss was pressed against his lips. 'I'm here' his king said gently.

Merlin opened his eyes slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the gloomy light. Things took a while to focus, but when they did he found two intense circles of blue watching him carefully. 'Arthur' he said again, more clearly this time, and smiled blearily up at the face of the man he loved that was hovering above him.

'Well isn't this touching' an icy voice spoke from the darkness behind them. Arthur's responding smile vanished as he looked up at a dark figure emerging from a shadowed corner of the cell.

'The king and his manservant- reunited'

'Who are you?' Arthur demanded coldly

A small hole in the wall illuminated the man as he stepped forward. He smiled mockingly as he spoke,

'My name is Zabrack. You are in the dungeons of the great castle of Engerd. Welcome, King of Camelot '

* * *

><p>'Engerd?'<p>

Arthur's voice came out in a snarl as he spoke, 'that's Cenred's kingdom'

'Indeed it is, Arthur' a smooth voice spoke from the doorway.

'Cenred' Arthur growled standing defensively as the king entered the tiny cell.

Cenred nodded his head at the king of Camelot in acknowledgement,

'I'm sorry for the manner in which you were brought here, Arthur, only I feared that if I had asked you in person, you would have said no… I see you have met my general' gesturing to Zabrack Cenred smiled playfully. Arthur glared at him in muted anger.

'What do you want with us, Cenred?'

'Only to ask you a question, Arthur'

'Yes?' Arthur replied, 'and what question is that?'

Cenred smiley wryly as he leaned in to Arthur

'Where is Emrys?'

* * *

><p>Arthur was at breaking point. He had never felt so helpless as he watched Crone carve into the man he loved. Watched as the blood spilled onto the floor. Watched as dark bruises formed on his pale skin.<p>

'Please' his voice broke as he begged, 'Please stop! You're going to kill him!'

'No, Arthur' came the reply, '_you_ are- unless you tell me what I want to know'

-Cenred had left what seemed like an age ago, when Arthur did not answer his questions. On his way out he had spoken to the general, Zabrack, who had smiled cruelly as his gaze had flickered to Merlin.

Arthur had tried to struggle as he was bound up in chains that tied him to the wall. He could do nothing but watch as they had strung merlin up by his arms, as the small man, Crone, had produced a collection of blood-stained instruments, as he had torn off his manservant's shirt, and begun to slice into his flesh.-

'I DON'T KNOW!' Arthur screamed back in desperation, 'PLEASE! I DON'T KNOW WHO EMRYS IS!'

A sickening crack sounded in Arthur's ears as Crone took a thick piece of metal to Merlin's ribs.

Merlin's screams felt like needles in Arthur's heart. He trembled as he called out to the man he loved, 'Merlin! Oh, Merlin I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry' the king watched in despair as an angry bruise spread across Merlin's small chest.

'I'm sorry' he murmured again, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

'Who is Emrys?' Zabrack demanded

Arthur looked up at the man before bowing his head in sorrow,

'I don't know' he whispered.

The tears continued to spill from Arthur Pendragon's eyes as Merlin's screams filled the room once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Merlin. All rights belong to the BBC. **

**Chapter 3**

Merlin's world was pain. The pain of each cut as it sliced through his skin. The pain of each blow as they landed against his face, his ribs. The pain of the chains tearing into his wrists. The pain at hearing each of Arthur's agonised pleas, as he was asked over and over the question that he did not have the answer to.

But Merlin did.

It took all his reserve not to shout it out. To not make the pain stop. He knew that a greater pain was at risk of tearing him apart should he tell them who he was; the pain of losing Arthur forever. He knew how his king felt about magic, he had heard the bitterness creep into his voice whenever he spoke of it. After Uther died Merlin knew Arthur would never trust it lightly again; magic had destroyed his family- everyone he loved. To Arthur, magic was evil.

The idea of Arthur hating him was too much for him to bear. So, even though Merlin knew he could silence his captors with one word, he knew that he would not, for fear of losing the only thing that was truly important to him. He would not break.

'Who is Emrys?'

'I don't know' came the broken, whispered reply.

Merlin braced himself for the pain as Crone picked up a large hook and dug it into his arm. He screamed as the man then pulled roughly, dragging the hook out by force, along with a chunk of Merlin's flesh.

Liquid warmth spread down Merlin's raised arm and pooled in the crook of his neck, before dribbling down his chest. He could hear it dripping rapidly onto the stone floor as his vision began to swim and fade.

Merlin hung there, gasping through the pain, as the blood continued to flow.

* * *

><p>Arthur had lost track of when Merlin had stopped screaming. Of when his head had slumped forwards, eyes closed, the drip of his blood hitting the cold floor the only sound filling the silence where his cries had once been.<p>

Arthur almost wished he was screaming. At least that way he knew that Merlin was alive; knew that his ignorance had not killed the man that he loved. -'_The man he could not be without', _he thought desolately to himself as his mind wandered back to how they had been yesterday in the woods.

_Merlin's sapphire eyes shining at him, staring into him longingly. The dappled sunlight playing on his face, dancing over his high cheekbones as he laughed. _

Now, instead of sunlight, Merlin's face was mottled with angry dark bruises. His soft lips were cracked and bleeding. A steady stream of crimson was still trickling down his body from the wound in his arm. Arthur stared at his manservant intently, watching his chest. The laboured rise and fall of Merlin's breathing the most important thing in the world to him at this moment. Arthur knew that if this small movement stopped, then Merlin would be dead. And if Merlin died, he died.

Arthur jumped when the door to the cell suddenly swung open. Anger burned in his chest as Cenred walked in, eagerly followed by his cruel general. His hands shook as he tried to control his rage.

Arthur had never hated anyone as fiercely as he did Cenred at that moment. This man had almost killed the man he loved. The man that was hanging bloodied and bruised from chains, right in front of him, and he didn't even seem to notice.

Pouncing forward Arthur tried to lay his hands on the evil king before him, but his shackles snapped tight, keeping him at a safe distance. Never the less he still fought against them- so much so that his wrists had begun to bleed.

* * *

><p>Cenred appraised the snarling man in front of him, before glancing at the unconscious boy strung up in the corner. He was surprised at how resilient the skinny servant had been. Judging by Crone's handiwork, he had endured more than some men twice his size could deal with.<p>

Turning back to Arthur, Cenred spoke

'So, you were telling the truth' he stated more than asked, 'you do not know Emrys'

Arthur glowered at him in reply. Cenred continued to speak;

'I'm sorry for my methods but I had to be completely sure, you see. For all I knew you were lying, and I wasn't going to take your word lightly now was I?'

Arthur continued to glare at him, a deep growl rumbling in his chest.

Cenred sighed. He'd hoped the young king would have been able to tell him something of the sorcerer Emrys- his lady had assured him that they knew something. He turned to contemplate the servant again. They would have to question him tomorrow, and judging by his condition their efforts may be fruitless.

He did not enjoy the prospect of having to tell his lady to wait for the information she seeked. Morgana was not a patient woman.

Sighing again he looked to his general, 'take the boy down and untie the king's hands. Make sure they are given water and nourishment. I still need them alive'

Zabrack nodded and moved past him towards the manservant. As Cenred walked away through the tunnels he heard the boy's cries echo after him as he was un-hooked from his chains and left to drop heavily to the floor.

* * *

><p>Pain shot through Merlin's entire body as he collided sharply with the cold floor, agony tearing through his side as the force rippled through his shattered ribs. He cried out.<p>

He felt someone untie his arms and they ached with relief as he finally lowered them below head level. A pain that made his breath catch stopped his movements short however. Merlin sucked in air quickly before releasing an agonised groan, clutching his bleeding arm and curling onto his side. His whole arm felt like it was on fire, the intense burning radiating out into his shoulder and down the side of his back.

He heard the door slam before someone shuffled towards him and placed a soothing hand on his side.

'Merlin?'

Arthur's voice was thick with concern.

Another hand reached down to turn his head towards the king's face. Merlin's vision blurred as he looked up at Arthur, whose face was etched with worry. And fear.

* * *

><p>The blue eyes that usually sparkled stared up at Arthur blearily and unfocusedly, clouded with pain.<p>

The king gently pulled his servant so that his head was in his lap. His heart wrenching at the sound of Merlin's feeble whimpers. He stroked his friend's head soothingly, the soft black hair running through his fingers. 'Shhhhh, Merlin' Arthur whispered, 'It's ok. I'm here now. I've got you.'

Reaching for the water left for them Arthur began to clean Merlin's wounds; wiping the dried trails of blood from his torso and binding his abused ribs.

Merlin was frowning slightly as Arthur examined him. An angry bruise was forming on his cheekbone below his left eye, and his skin was peppered with small cuts. Turning to examine the gash on Merlin's arm Arthur peeled back what was left of Merlin's shirt and gasped at what he saw. The wound ran deep-almost to the bone. The chunk of flesh that had been so mercilessly ripped from his manservant's arm now hung loosely from one side.

Arthur swallowed thickly and his hands trembled as he tried to put his lover's arm back together. Merlin sobbed in misery and tried to shy away.

'Shhhhh… Merlin.' Arthur whispered softly

Merlin's head turned towards Arthur's voice, 'thur..?' he mumbled,

Arthur cringed at the frailty in Merlin's voice; 'yes, it's me, Merlin- I'm here'

Merlin shivered and whimpered softly. 'Hurts' he managed to breathe, reaching a shaking hand out to grasp Arthur's shirt feebly.

Arthur tried not to crumble then and there, and his voice shook as he soothed his friend,

'I know' he murmured, 'it's ok, Merlin. I'm going to make it better. I promise.'

Arthur waited until Merlin was asleep again before trickling water over the arm wound and bandaging it tightly to stop the bleeding. The manservant whined quietly but did not open his eyes.

Leaning back against the wall Arthur closed his eyes to the darkness, his hand stroking Merlin's face absent mindedly.

Merlin's strangled sobs woke him a while later. Arthur felt tears sting his own eyes as he cradled the man he loved into his chest and rocked him gently. Fear threatened to crush him as he felt Merlin's cold skin against his own and the sticky sheen of sweat on his forehead.

No.

He needed Merlin to be strong; to fight. He leaned down to press his lips against his servant's temple.

'Please' he whispered desperately into his ear, 'Please, Merlin. Don't leave me.'

Whispers became sobs as Arthur held Merlin tighter;

'Merlin, Please! I NEED YOU!'

_Please, please don't die. _

**Wah! I wrote this at like 4 am so I apologise if it is a little waffily! **

**Lemme know what you think- even if you hated it i want to know :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Merlin. All rights belong to the BBC.**

**Firstly I'm so sorry this took so long to update. I promised myself I wouldn't be a slow updater and yet I've left it for over a month due to some unscheduled January craziness! **

**Secondly, thankyou so much to everyone who has reviewed and is following/favouriting etc. I'm glad you are liking this so far**

**Chapter 4**

'He knows nothing?' Morgana repeated slowly, her eyes locked on the dark king,

'No, My lady' Cenred replied, 'I did as you asked; took the king and his manservant. My general questioned him all day, Arthur knows nothing.'

A mixture of impatience and irritation flickered across the sorceress' face before dissolving back into an impassive mask, 'And the servant?'

'He suffered greatly at Camelot's ignorance. He barely lives '

_Arthur must really know nothing_ Morgana thought to herself, he would never allow Merlin to suffer- that she knew for a fact. Merlin meant everything to her brother.

She appraised the man before her; confident but unsure- she made him nervous, and she loved to relish in that fact.

'Ensure that he does' she snapped at him harshly, 'It would be unfortunate for you if he should die because you could not control your men's greed for cruelty'

Cenred blanched at the Sorceress' words, unease rising in his chest, 'Of course, my lady'

Morgana stood from her chair and made to leave the room, 'Tomorrow you will question the servant boy' she said, walking towards the open door, 'Let us see if he knows something his master does not. She turned back to look at the king, grinning spitefully.

Her smile quickly faded into a mask of threatening severity, 'find me Emrys, Cenred, only his blood can ensure us victory. If you should fail, then this alliance will no longer hold any value to me, and those whom I do not value I do not keep alive'. With that Morgana swept from the room, black robes billowing behind her, the words of her threat hanging still in the air.

'My lady' Cenred murmured faintly, inclining his head towards the now empty doorway. He took in a deep breath and stood himself up straight before turning around to make back for the dungeons. He would find Emrys, even if it meant capturing every soul in Camelot.

* * *

><p>It was three days now since Arthur and his knights had ridden from Camelot. That was days too long. Gwen paced restlessly through the castle corridors, her fingers fidgeting anxiously with the apron of her dress.<p>

_Where were they? _

They were only supposed to be away for a day at the most. A day of hunting, that was all. But when night fell on the first day and her friends did not return, Gwen felt a twist of unease start up in her chest. This unease had come to consume her after two more nights passed with no sign of a red cloak or the sound of hooves on cobbled stone.

Unease soon became panic at the arrival of a bruised and exhausted Gwaine, Leon and Percival. They had managed to evade capture after the party was attacked by bandits, but their horses were stolen and they had, had to walk back to Camelot with no food and no water.

They had not seen nor heard from Arthur or Merlin since the attack. Gwaine had returned to where he had seen them last but they were not to be found. There had been no signs of a struggle.

Gwen felt a new feeling creep into the pit of her stomach and coil around her chest. A feeling that was slowly spreading through all of Camelot.

Fear.

* * *

><p>Arthur had held Merlin all night, cradling him against his chest to keep him warm and placing soft kisses in his hair to soothe him when he cried out.<p>

Merlin was weak; he had lost too much blood. His skin felt cold against Arthur's, his breath coming out in short pants as he shivered against the king's warm body.

Arthur was afraid. Merlin was dying and he couldn't stop it. There was nothing he could do and it terrified him. His heart ached in his chest at the thought of a life without his ridiculous manservant; he would be so alone.

'I should have told you more' he whispered into the tangled mop of black hair, 'I never told you enough, Merlin, how much you mean to me'

Arthur looked down at the small body in his arms. His hand came up ghost over the bruises on Merlin's face before resting it there against his cheek, his thumb tracing lines over the soft lips that were drawing in air in quick, stuttering breaths.

Leaning down so that their heads were almost touching, Arthur took in every detail of Merlin's face, committing them to memory, never to be forgotten.

'I love you, Merlin' He whispered fervently, 'Do you hear me? I love you'

Fresh tears pricked at Arthur's eyes as he leant down to gently brush Merlin's lips against his own, before sitting back up and pulling his servant into his chest as closely as he could. He felt the grip on his shirt tighten as Merlin lifted his head to burrow into the crook of his neck, resting there and sighing quietly.

A small smile managed to flicker its way across Arthur Pendragon's face.

* * *

><p>Merlin couldn't breathe. It felt as though someone had crushed his chest and buried him under a pile of rocks. The only way he could get in air was in short, aching gasps that sent pain ricocheting through his whole body, or what was left of it.<p>

He was vaguely aware of someone rocking him gently, speaking soft words into his hair. He had tried to speak back but he couldn't find his voice. His body felt heavy, like someone had weighted him down. He was so tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep but he knew that if he did he might never wake again.

And so Merlin fought the darkness that threatened to pull him down. He focused Arthur's soft voice as it spoke to him, trying to clear the fog in his brain so that he could make out the words.

'..you Merlin. Do you hear me? I love you..'

Somewhere from within Merlin's battered chest a heart swelled and began to thrum loudly. Clinging onto the king's shirt tightly, he mustered all the strength he could find to pull himself up and bury his face into Arthur's neck. _I love you too, Arthur_, he thought with all his might. He hoped Arthur understood.

He rested there for a long time, breathing in the scent of his king; leather and horses, and something inexplicably Arthur that Merlin savored in. He dreamed they were back in Camelot in Arthur's chambers. He had snuck out in the early hours of the morning and crept into the king's bed, cuddling up to him under the sheets, feeling warm, strong arms surround him, trapping him against his chest. He would lie and listen to the steady beat of Arthur's heart, feeling it pulse into him, connecting them.

The heartbeat began to quicken, however, at the sound of a key scraping in a lock. It sounded far off to Merlin through the haze in his head. Arms coiled around him protectively before they were gone altogether. Agony seared through his body as someone wrenched him from Arthur's grasp and threw him against the wall. He cried out at his arm collided sharply with the rough stones and he doubled over as the throbbing heat washed over him, clutching his limb to his chest defensively.

He was forced up onto his knees and a calloused hand slapped him sharply across the face.

'Open your eyes' someone commanded.

Blearily Merlin pried his eyes open. He focused on a pair of dirty black leather boots. Lifting his heavy head slowly his gaze travelled up the man's body in front of him until he was looking into the dark eyes of Cenred himself, who was assessing him with a look of impatience and abhorrence.

Chains rattled somewhere behind him and he heard Arthur's grunts of indignation as he was surely being strung up as Merlin had the day before.

Merlin began to tremble; only this was not from the fever. He realised what was going to happen next, and as Arthur's cries of agony filled the small room a new pain wrenched in Merlin's heart.

'Who is Emrys?' the king hissed

Merlin glared at him viciously, he could feel the anger rising in his chest and the swell of magic bubbling in his fingertips. The pain of his injuries began to dull as the power coursed through his veins.

'You will not harm Arthur' he growled, his voice low and threatening.

Cenred looked taken aback by Merlin's sudden burst of anger. He had clearly heard the warning in the servant's voice and was now appraising him warily.

'Or what?' He queried back scornfully, his twisting smile mocking the seemingly harmless man before him.

Merlin suppressed a growl as he fought to control his temper, and his magic. Behind him Arthur screamed again and his anger faded slightly as sorrow and concern fought to take its place.

_No more_ he thought to himself. He knew what must be done.

Merlin had sworn that he would not break. And yet here it was- the one thing that could break him- Arthur suffering at his hands. His silence.

Static rippled through the small room as the earth was drawn of its power. A pair of blue eyes flashed gold.

It was time for Cenred to meet Emrys.

* * *

><p>Arthur didn't really see what happened then. He heard shouts and a gust of wind in his face, and then Merlin was in front of him, stroking his hair. And then his chains were gone and he was kneeling on the floor holding his side and gasping for breath,<p>

'Arthur?' A concerned pair of sapphire eyes pierced into his, 'you ok?'

He nodded and let his gaze slip past Merlin's face to behind him, where Crone, Cenred and his general were all slumped against the wall, out cold.

Arthur's brow furrowed in confusion, 'Merlin' he asked, 'How on earth did you do that?'

He moved his gaze back to capture Merlin's eyes again, but they were now staring at the floor. Merlin's face was crumpled and defeated. He looked scared. And guilty.

'I'm sorry Arthur' the manservant whispered, 'I love you'. A tear rolled down his cheek before he flung himself over the king protectively, shouting something Arthur could not understand. The wall of the dungeon blew outwards, sunlight streaming in, blinding them.

And then Arthur realised. He recoiled from Merlin's embrace as his eyes flickered from the hole in the wall back to his servant's face; a face that looked entirely different in the new light; powerful and knowing.

_Dangerous! _Arthur's mind whispered to him. Merlin was a sorcerer. MERLIN WAS A SORCERER!

**Lemme know what you think, wanted to get it up so wrote in in a bit of a hurry! Next chapter will be up soon I promise! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Regretably I do not own Merlin. All rights belong to the BBC. **

**Ok so I definitely broke my promise. This chapter has been a LONG time coming, and for that I can only apologise. I decided last minute to go travelling for a few months, where I wasn't able to update so that is my excuse- that and the fact that when I got back I had some serious writer's block with this chapter. It hated me, and I have no idea why- maybe it's because I rejected it for so long…. **

**Not very happy with this, but after writing about a million and one different versions for this chapter, I kinda gave up and picked the least offensive one! Hope you like it anyways **

**Chapter 5**

Dust began to settle in Merlin's hair as he watched, heart pounding painfully in his chest as Arthur scrambled backwards away from him, head shaking in denial.

Merlin stared at him cautiously as he choked out stunted syllables through rapidly quickening breaths,

"Bu-….Yo-…" The King struggled as he looked disbelievingly at his servant, whose gaze dropped, repentantly, to the floor.

"You can't be" he finally whispered out brokenly.

Merlin raised his eyes to look, perhaps for the last time, into the eyes of his friend. He almost flinched at the pain he found there. Any reasoning he had had, died on his lips. All he could do was look into the face of the man he loved and try to beg him to understand.

He felt his hope begin to crack when Arthur's mask of pain morphed into one of anger, blue eyes freezing into a piercing glare,

"All this time" He growled harshly, "After everything that we have been through. For _years_ I have trusted you- confided in you- and the whole time you were betraying me?!"

Merlin recoiled at the fury lacing Arthur's words. He shook his head profusely, "No" he murmured desperately, "No, Arth-"

He was cut off by a strong, calloused hand grasping him around the neck and hauling him into the wall. He groaned at the pain that ricocheted through his body from the impact and tried to struggle free, but he was pinned.

"What is your plan?" Arthur hissed into his face, hate dripping from his words. Merlin stared at him forlornly,

"Arthur pleas-"He was cut off again when he was pulled forward and slammed back into the cold stone wall. Black dots swarmed around his vision.

"TELL ME!" The king shouted forcefully, "What design have you created against me and my kingdom, sorcerer?" He spat the last word harshly; as though it were poison on his tongue.

Merlin screwed his eyes shut against the throbbing in his head-against the pain creeping its way around his chest- and against the disgust in the face of the man he loved. He could feel his breathing begin to hitch and break as the same face glared at him from behind his eyelids, imprinted in his memory.

He opened his eyes again, but did not- could not- look the man in front of him in the eyes.

"I would never hurt you, Arthur- you know that"

The king scoffed bitterly, "Do I?" He retorted incredulously, "I cannot be sure of anything anymore, Merlin. How can I trust anything you say, when everything I thought was true has been a lie?"

Merlin did not have to be looking at his King to understand the pain in his voice. He felt his own heart begin to crack as he felt his love slipping away from him. He took in a deep, faltering breath and raised his head to stare his heartbreak in the face.

"Because you know me" He choked back desperately, "you know I would never let any harm come to you- or to Camelot. You know that I would do anything for you"

Something in Arthur's eyes seemed to flicker momentarily, but before Merlin could name it, it had vanished, only to be replaced by cold resignation.

"I do not know you." The king replied emotionlessly. "Not anymore"

Merlin's face crumpled. Any shred of light that had lingered in his eyes snuffed out like a candle in a storm. Hands trembled by his sides as they fisted into his tunic, squeezing so hard that his knuckles began bleaching the skin.

"Arthur please." Merlin implored, " Please, Arthur, let me explain-"

"No" The king growled back resolutely, eyes glistening with emotion.

"You tricked me" He uttered quietly, almost as if to himself, voice thick with agony.

Merlin shook his head sorrowfully, trying to ignore the obvious pain in his love's voice,

"No…"

Arthur's eyes were beginning to burn again with intense anger now, as his voice grew louder,

"Yes! You tricked me!" Merlin flinched as Arthur practically spat the words out at him,

"Was this your plan all along, sorcerer, to worm your way into Camelot's heart and then destroy her from the inside? To make me trust you so completely that your betrayal would seem all the worse?!"

Hot tears pricked at Merlin's eyes as he stared mutely at the floor, head still shaking resolutely against the onslaught of pain that the king's words were inflicting on him.

"You have played me; betrayed me. Our friendship was nothing but a game to you, and I was a fool not to see it." Arthur released his grip on Merlin and stepped away, turning to face the wall,

"My father was right" he spoke bitterly, turning back to appraise the shaking man before him, "he warned me that people would try to play me against my own emotions, my own weaknesses. I should have listened to him"

Something was crushing Merlin's chest. His already shattered ribs felt like they were crumbling to dust as each of Arthur's words pierced his heart like a knife. His heart was bleeding, he was sure of it.

"Arthur" he begged brokenly, "No, Arthur, please" he broke off as the air in his lungs began to choke him, his breaths coming in short and ragged as he tried to control the shaking in his limbs.

"There is nothing to explain" Arthur spoke over him coldly. "You are a traitor and a coward. I have discovered you- your plan has failed that is all that matters.

"I am ashamed to have let myself become so weak. You have played me for a fool."

Quiet enveloped the crumbled cell as the King's stinging words found their mark. The faithful wall that Merlin had been leaning against for support suddenly didn't seem strong enough and the servant's knees buckled as he sank, slowly, to the floor. Noiseless tears screamed pain down his face as he waited for the end to come.

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><p>Arthur stood, hands shaking, watching the man weeping on the floor in front of him. Normally the sight of Merlin like this would have him by his side in a heartbeat, holding him and soothing him.<p>

But not today.

The Merlin he knew and loved no longer existed. In his place sat a liar, a traitor. A sorcerer.

In one short moment, the very foundation of the king's life hadn't just been altered, it had been crushed. Everything he thought he knew, the very person that he was, was because of Merlin; because of how knowing him had changed him. And yet all of this had been a lie.

Bitterness claws its way through Arthur's chest at the thought of the depth of his servant's deception, his breathing quickening as he fights to keep his raging emotions in check.

How could he have been so stupid?

He should have known by now not to trust anyone anymore. Everyone he trusts always ends up hurting him.

_Sorcerers are evil. They cannot be trusted. Do not forget that my son._

His father's words echo around his head as Arthur continues to watch the man in front of him, trying to stop the sobs from bursting out of his chest and betraying him. As Merlin had.

* * *

><p>The silence was broken by the sound of armoured footsteps making their way towards the prison cell. Arthur started suddenly, lunging forward to grab Cenred's sword from his unconscious body.<p>

Merlin looked up at him defeatedly.

"Will you leave me here to die?"

Arthur's impassive mask never faltered as he replied emotionlessly,

"That would be no more than you deserve."

Any hope that merlin's heart was clinging on to disintegrated at that moment, and along with it went his heart, leaching out of him as he nodded numbly at Arthur's words. His worst fear had come true. Arthur hated him. It hurt more than he could ever have imagined.

It did not matter that Arthur would leave him to die. He was dead already. His heart had just been burned out of his chest by the only person he had ever trusted it with. He would rather die than have to live a lifetime of this agony.

The footsteps were getting closer now, Arthur would never make it out in time; they would surely catch him. Arthur seemed to realise this as well, shifting his body and bracing for attack rather than running.

"I can help you" Merlin murmured out flatly.

Arthur eyed him disdainfully from across the cell, "why would I accept help from the likes of you?"

"Because I can save you!" the servant spoke back, a bit more forcefully, raising his head to look the king in the eye. "You won't make it away from here now; you've missed your chance. Even if you could you have no idea where exactly you are, it could be weeks before you reach Camelot, and on foot you are likely to be caught. I could…." Merlin faltered hesitantly, "I could stay here while you ran, distract the guards long enough for you to get away; send them off on a false trail-"

"No!" Arthur's sudden dismissal of his plan caught Merlin off guard. Something in the king's voice had been…. not angry.

Merlin's brow furrowed at his objection. He raised his eyes to look at him, "But-"

Arthur interrupted him quickly, brushing off the long pause with a justification,

"I will not let you play me for a fool again, sorcerer. As if I would let you out of my sight. No. You will come with me back to Camelot and be put on trial for sorcery. You will be found guilty, and punished accordingly."

Realisation flooded through Merlin's mind at the king's words, and along with it another stabbing jolt of pain.

Arthur wanted to see him die. He hated him so much that he couldn't stand the idea of another man getting to kill him instead.

Merlin felt his soul begin to trickle away as the hole in his chest ripped open just a little bit more.

Whole body shaking, the servant managed to stagger to his feet and turn to face his master.

"Together, then" he uttered quietly.

_For the last time_

He limped over to the blond slowly, never breaking eye contact. The footsteps were at the door now; someone was fumbling with a set of keys.

Arthur eyed him warily, gaze flickering between his servant and the door "what are you going to do?"

Merlin closed his eyes briefly, letting his mind reach out to find the tendrils of his magic inside him. He drew on it, mustering all the strength that his shattered body had left. He opened his eyes again, grabbing the arm of the man in front of him and looking straight into his questioning blue eyes.

"I'm taking us home" he said softly, before his own blue eyes flashed gold and the world went black.

* * *

><p>Morgana stood in the silent, empty cell, cold eyes staring at the hole of sunlight shining through the destroyed brickwork.<p>

Behind her Cenred stood uneasily, she could hear him fidgeting. The fool.

"And you have no idea where they are now?" She questioned, whilst a pale hand twirled its way around a ringlet of dark hair.

Cenred swallowed, "No, my lady" He glanced up nervously, "As I said, the boy- he attacked us, and when I came to they were gone."

"Gone?" the sorceress mimicked; voice sickly sweet,

"Y-yes, my lady. I have sent men out to search for them but there is no trail. It.. it's almost as if they vanished, my lady"

"I understand" Morgana replied consolingly

The dark-haired king looked up at her, surprised, "My lady?"

The sorceress turned to observe the man in front of her, "I understand, Cenred.

Nervous relief flickered across the man's face at his mistress', apparent, forgiveness.

It was short-lived.

"I understand that you had the man I was looking for in your prisons for three days and you were not able to make him confess to it. I understand that you were foolish enough to let that man escape. And I understand that because of you my entire plan is collapsing around me, and you-" She raised her hand towards him, rage burning in her eyes, "you will be the first one to be crushed by its failure"

The king's eyes widened with realisation at what was about to happen, and began backing into the wall behind him, arms raised in front of him in surrender.

As the sorceress watched her prey move, terrified, away from her, something flashed in the corner of her eye- sunlight. It was glistening off of the surface of a patch of crimson that lay beneath a pair of red-stained manacles that hung from the ceiling.

Triumphant fire glistened in the woman's eyes as she swept over to the cold puddle on the floor.

"Whose blood is this" She barked sharply, head snapping up to stare intently at the dark king, who still stood with his back pressed firmly against the wall. He looked at her, brow furrowing in confusion,

"My lady?"

Morgana glared impatiently at the man in front of her, "Whose blood, Cenred. Whose blood is this" She pointed with her hand down to the dark pool at her feet.

"The boy's, my lady" Cenred replied, brow still frowning in confusion, "Crone made sure that he suffered greatly"

A pair of green eyes burned gold as the liquid was drawn up into the air. A gleeful smile crept over the witch's pale face as she watched the red shape shift around before her.

"It seems you luck has not run out just yet, Cenred" She turned her head slightly to address the king behind her.

Suddenly, as if broken from a trance, she turned, "Come, we must make haste. Find the druid woman; tell her I have what we need. It is not as much as I had hoped, but it will do."

As Cenred moved swiftly from the room, Morgana turned back to the crimson shape hanging in the air.

"Yes" She cooed, "Run along now, Merlin, protect your precious king while you can." Cunning green eyes flickered to stare out of the crumbling hole in the dungeon wall, "Things will not be so easy next time."

**Ok so i know this was basically all Merlin's POV, next chapter there will be more Arthur I promise, and I will try to make it better! **

**Thankyou everyone who is following and favouriting and reviewing, especially those who have been following from the start and letting me know they are liking it, really it means the world! **


	6. Chapter 6

**I have no excuse for the delay. All I can do is apologise. I am a terrible human being. **

**Regretably I do not own Merlin. All rights belong to the BBC. **

**Hope you like**

**Chapter 6**

Green. That is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. It stretches out far in front of him, small tendrils of it tickling his face.

'_Grass'_

And as his eyes travel further away to the tall stone walls ahead, he realises that is it Camelot grass.

Relief overwhelms him at the sight of the city gates. He is home at last. Wearily he pulls himself to his feet and begins to stumble forwards, only to stop at the unnatural absence of a familiar shadow at his side. Turning to look behind, his eyes find the owner of that shadow.

Still and pale the figure lies awkwardly on the ground, blood plastering tattered clothing to the brutalised skin beneath it. Painful breaths come out of bruised lips, as clouded cobalt eyes watch him apprehensively from behind a curtain of matted black hair.

There is temptation. Temptation to run forwards and cradle this man in his arms. To carry him into the safety of those stone walls and care for him. To clean each wound himself and press his lips to the soft scars they will leave behind when they heal.

And yet, there is something stronger than that temptation. Something that tears acidly through his chest as he takes in the sight of the pitiful person before him.

Betrayal.

It stings like an open wound. It hurts. And so he stops looking.

Without a backwards glance he turns from the body at his feet and walks towards the city, resolved to be a different man; a man without temptation.

A king without a servant.

**I know it's crazy short. But the next part will be up probably tomorrow or at some point VERY soon! Huge thank you to everyone who is still following this and to everyone who reviewed, you're all amazing!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Merlin, all rights belong to the BBC.**

**I've actually updated within 4 months! Proud moment.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

"And you can assure me that this is all that I will need; that this will work?"

Green eyes appraise the woman before her sharply, before flickering back to scan the wrinkled piece of parchment in her hand.

"Yes, my lady. I am certain. It is the very one you described to me; it shall not fail you, on this I swear"

A small smirk flickers at the corner of Morgana's mouth. She walks towards the woman shifting nervously in front of her. One long finger flicks out to underneath the druid's chin, pulling her face up to meet her eye to eye.

"You have done well for me, Lianda"

Never breaking eye contact with the other woman, Morgana calls for the dark-haired man lounging on the crumbling throne behind her.

"Cenred!"

Sitting to attention suddenly before springing to his feet, the man paces forwards stiffly.

"My lady?"

"Take our lovely Lianda to her family. Ensure that they have all that they need before escourting them safely home"

The king tips his head softly in compliance. "My lady", he murmurs before making his way towards the door.

Still staring at the woman before her, Morgana smiles sweetly. "Do not fear Cenred, Lianda, he is not here to harm you. He is here to take you all home, and provide you with anything that you may need."

Lianda's gaze shifts hesitantly from the sorceress' face to the shadow of the man in the corner of her eye. Swallowing gently she smiles tentatively back and gives a small nod before turning towards the door.

The smile fades from Morgana's face as she watches the woman leave. Catching Cenred's eye she nods to him coldly, before turning back to inspect the page still firmly clasped in her hands. She hears the terrified gasps of a struggle briefly before the heavy wooden door slams firmly shut. The wrought iron handles clanging loudly, echoing around the empty stone walls.

Heavy black cloth rustles in the settling quiet as Morgana turns and strides over to the chest at the back of the room. Lifting the lid she inspects the contents inside; a mass of gold and silver chains, each with a handsome pendant adorning them. A pale hand reaches in and pulls one from the pile, the inlaid sapphire casting a pattern of blue rays against the wall. A second hand draws a silver vial from within the layers of black fabric that adorn the sorceress' frame. Green eyes flick down to the parchment as Morgana whispers out the words scrawled down by Lianda's hand, the emerald irises soon becoming consumed by a fierce gold.

The vial is opened, allowing three drops of crimson to flow from its mouth and fall, one by one, onto the pendant in Morgana's hand. Sapphire turns to ruby just as the gold is fading from her eyes. Smirking to herself Morgana lifts the jewel to the light, inspecting it, before placing the necklace over her head. Turning back to the chest, she draws another necklet from the pile. The grin never leaves her face as her eyes glow gold again and again, the room bathed in a scarlet glow from the growing pile of blood red rubies by her side.

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><p><strong>Ok so I'm being evil. This one was really short too. I promise though the next one will be longer!<strong>

**Thankyou to everyone who has followed- almost 100 which is so crazy! And to all the reviews, even Paul's, although it was a bit of a downer. :) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**So, I have to confess something- multiple things actually:**

**I absolutely have a lying problem when it comes to update promises**

**And 2- Yes, I may have for a little while completely forgotten about this fic just a teensy tiny amount. It wasn't until I checked my emails and saw that a few of you marvellous people had favourited this that I went back to check on this, and realised that it has been over a YEAR since my last update. *hides behind laptop* Please don't kill me. **

**So to those of you who took the time to dig this out of the archives and like it I salute you- as all of you should as it is them that kick-started me back into action!**

**So, here goes… **

**I do not own Merlin, regrettably.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

"Wait! Merlin! You can't just leave!"

"I'm sorry, Gaius,"

His pale hands shake as he crams the last of his clothing into the small bag. A gentle touch comes to lay on his shoulders, slowly turning him.

"My boy" – his voice is calm and soothing – "whatever this is – whatever it is that is wrong- it will right itself. You are injured, stay a little at least, even if it is only until I can treat you"

He shakes his head violently, face twisting and eyes clenched tightly shut. "I'm sorry", he whispers, bloodshot eyes opening slowly to meet the older man's concerned gaze,

"I'm sorry, Gaius, I can't… I can't stay"

He turns as if to leave, heart clenching as the warmth of the physician's hands leave his skin. His arm throbs sharply and the world tilts a little as he tries to control his breathing.

"Merli-"

"No!" He cuts in, anguish ripping the sound from his throat harshly.

"No, Gaius! He knows! He knows, and he hates me for it! I…." He shakes his head despairingly, eyes shutting tightly over the rapidly pooling tears. "I cannot stay, not now. It is not safe; it is not safe for me"

He looks up into the face of his mentor and tries not to let his sorrow show- tries not to let himself think that this may be the last time that he looks into the eyes of the man that he would call father. He grips the elder's shoulders tightly, "and it is not safe for you". The words leave his lips softly. Leaning his shaking body into the physician's embrace, he allows himself this one last moment of comfort. Footsteps echo in the corridors around them.

Pulling back slowly, he smiles at the old man fondly.

"Goodbye, Gaius".

He feels his magic surging beneath his skin, and when he blinks there is nothing but dark woodland before him, silent and shadowed in the cool dusk.

Voices drifting from behind Camelot's walls echo around the clearing, calling to each other merrily as they celebrate the return of their king. Blue eyes catch the orange glow of the torches briefly as they glance back towards the castle, before shutting tightly. They do not open again until they are once again turned to face into the darkening woods. Trembling hands clutching weakly at his bag of meagre possessions, Merlin slowly makes his way forwards into the night.

He walks for as long as he can, leaning on the trees for support. Blood still trickles steadily from his arm, soaking through his threadbare tunic and leaving crimson prints in the rough bark. He sinks to his knees slowly, breaths gasping from his chest raggedly as he crawls along the damp floor. The snapping of wood echoes loudly in the silence as the sorcerer crawls beneath a bush, crying out brokenly as his wounds snag on the sharp twigs. Curling up in a hollow beneath the branches, he allows himself to imagine that he is safe, that the arms of the sheltering plant are the arms of another; warm and comforting. He basks in the memory silently, before allowing the sobs to finally break free from his chest, their fractured echoes carrying as they bounce between the trees in the darkness.

* * *

><p>He had left the feast early. He'd had to, it was too much. Too much to sit there surrounded by merriment when he felt the furthest thing from it. Too much to see Gaius sitting there, slouched and sorrowful, and being the only one to truly know why.<p>

He'd had no appetite. Any food he had tried to swallow had tasted bitter in his mouth.  
>The wine in his goblet had done nothing to combat the numbness spreading through his chest. He had frowned every time the servant had come to replenish the emptying cup, the boy's brown eyes and fair hair sticking out offensively to the young king, though he did not care to linger on the thought as to why.<p>

No. It was too much.

And so it was that the king of Camelot now stood, alone in his bedchambers, whilst the rest of his kingdom celebrated merrily around him in honour of his safe return. A return that had nothing to do with Arthur, and everything to do with the figure that he had left, lying small and pale in the grass.

The king closed his eyes wearily, making his way over to the fire and sinking in to the faded armchair. He ached. His limbs felt heavy and his head thick as he tried to process his thoughts. His blue eyes stared vacantly at the flames before him, seeing not the orange of the flickering heat but the gold of burning irises. He saw the bloodied chains hanging from the ceiling and the cruel smirks of his captors. But the worst of all was the image that he could not banish; of pained blue eyes watching him as he had turned his back and walked away.

Merlin had been so weak. Where was he now?

_Arthur had made his way to Gaius' chambers not long after returning; the pain in his ribs had been throbbing harshly, and he knew the physician would want to take a look at them. He had paused at the heavy oaken door before knocking, mind whirling. _

_Did Gaius know? He was Merlin's guardian after all, and Arthur knew how much the servant cared for the man; he was like a father to him - to both of them. _

_As he had lingered outside the chambers, the king imagined he heard voices, hushed but urgent, coming from inside. When he had knocked and entered, however, it was to find the old physician alone in the room, aged skin pale as he had turned to greet his visitor. _

_A small part of the king had been disappointed to find only Gaius upon entering, a tiny part of him hoping to spy a familiar mop of black hair disappearing into the back room. _

Arthur stood from his chair suddenly, pacing before the hearth stiffly as anger laced through him at the thought of Merlin. His manservant, who had won his affection and his trust, who had become so important to him. The manservant who had lied to him from the moment they had met, who represented all that he fought against.

The same manservant who had never tried to harm him, who had protected him for years.  
>The same manservant who had lain with him in his bed, and whispered that he loved him.<br>The same manservant who had saved him from his captors earlier that day.

The king growled in frustration, his strong hand coming to slap harshly against the cold stone wall as he leaned against the mantelpiece, head leaning on one arm, facing the flames.

How could he know what to trust? Everything he knew of sorcerers and everything he knew of Merlin were different.

Sorcerers were evil. Dangerous.

And yet Merlin had never appeared to be. He had been kind, clumsy, and gentle.

Stinging tears filled the eyes of the young king of Camelot.

_Everything was a lie_.

The laughter of Camelot's people echoed through the halls of the kingdom, all celebrating at what had been returned to them.

All were merry but one- A king - crowned with sorrow, who sat and wept for all that he had lost.

For sorcerers could not be good. – could they?

* * *

><p><strong>I will try my hardest HARDEST to update soon- I do promise that I shall never make you wait a whole year again though, this I swear!<strong>

**Thanks for reading. **


	9. Chapter 9

**What's this I see- another update?! **

**Just to say thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter- especially GateMadness, I had a little chuckle to myself at your comment! - But to everyone thank you, love getting reviews so you are all amazing! **

**Ok so this is more of a filler-ish kind of chapter, just to set everything up nicely for the next one or two!**

**Regrettably I do not own Merlin.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

_2 weeks later…_

She watched the terror unfold from within the safety of the trees. She stood shakily, heart pounding wildly within her small chest, within the protective circle of her mother's arms as they watched the flames lick their way higher and higher.

The smoke was thick and black, the cries of people and livestock alike ringing through the acrid air as bodies tried to escape from the heat of the blaze.

She could feel her mother's sobs shudder through her own, small frame, as they watched what was left of their home- their livelihood, crumble to the ground in a heap of glowing amber and ash.

She turned in the gentle embrace to bury her head into the softness of her sole comforter, the familiar smell of her now just barely noticeable beneath the strong scent of the fire and the smoke. The arms around her tightened, and the two wept together for their lost home in the safe shadows of the trees.

A twig snapped sharply.

The girl's eyes flew open, casting around the gloom of the forest warily.  
>There, fading into the shadows, she could have sworn she saw a figure retreating.<p>

A woman dressed all in black.

* * *

><p><em>The rain is ceaseless, heavy ribbons pouring from the sky relentlessly. The streets run in shallow rivers, lights from the houses blurred by the wet curtain. <em>

_He can hear it dripping on the window sill from the wall above as he lies in his bed, warm and safe from the torrent outside._

_Small puffs of warm air tickle at his throat, unconsciously in time with the splashing raindrops at the window. His fingers stroke out their own rhythm through soft, black hair as he relaxes further into the mattress, content in this moment of warmth and comfort...-_

-"Sire, we have new reports of fresh attacks by the western border"

Leon's voice pierced through Arthur's distracted reverie. He blinked and looked up, "Sir Leon?"

"News, Sire", Leon repeated, taking a small step closer to the king, "From the western border".

Arthur blinked again and sat up straighter, clearing his throat softly.

_Concentrate, Arthur!_

"Go on" he said, nodding towards his friend.

The knight in question cast his eyes amongst his comrades anxiously before addressing his king, "Another village has been targeted, sire" he began, "the attackers came in the night and razed it to the ground. Those who survived are without food and shelter".

The king's brow furrowed as his friend informed him of the news.

_Another village._

"Did they take anything?" he enquired of Leon, "possessions, people? Does there seem to be any reasoning behind this attack?"

A matching frown creased its way onto the knight in questions brow as he replied, "No, sire, nothing of the sort. One witness- a local farmer- merely reports that the men responsible arrived, searched every building and, when they did not find what they were looking for, set fire to the houses and moved on. No blows exchanged".

"Did he say how many men?" the king asked,

"Yes" Leon replied, "he said that from what he saw there can't have been more than five"

Arthur's brow furrowed even further, "so few" he commented, standing to move over by his men, and bracing his arms against the table as he leaned in to inspect the large map that had been laid out.

"This is the fourth village to be targeted in the past nine days" he spoke steadily, hands moving to point at the locations on the illustration before him. "First here, at Edgeby", his hand moved to the top of the map, settling on the place where the village lay- or used to lie. "Second" his hand moved further down the map, travelling inland, "was here at Bridham. Thirdly," his fingers crept along the map slightly to the east, "was here, at Pemthely". Arthur stood up straighter as he appraised the map carefully. "And the fourth" he continued steadily, "was…?" Arthur looked up expectantly at Leon, waiting for the knight to supply him with the information.

The knight looked up at the pause in the king's speech. Taking in the expectant expression he jumped into action, "Oh! Um, yes. Here...". Walking around the table, Leon was able to reach over to place his hand on the location of the most recent attack. "At Fettleshaw".

The young king nodded, "they're heading for Camelot" he murmured quietly, eyes noticing a pattern on the map before him.

"Sire?" Leon spoke, both he and Percival looking up at the king questioningly.

Arthur's hand moved to the map again as he explained. "The attackers, whoever they are, are moving south, attacking the villages that they meet in their path". His fingers traced the line from village to village, before jumping further down the map to land solidly on another point. "If I am right, then the next town to be targeted will be here" his fingers tapped again over their place on the map, "At Woodsborough".

The knights around him nodded in understanding. Percival opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of the large wooden doors slamming open, iron handles rattling loudly from the impact.

Breathing heavily and still in his full armour, Gwaine rushed in, eyes casting about quickly until they found Arthur.

"Gwaine!" The king in question exclaimed, standing up from his position over the table to move towards the disturbed looking knight.

"Sire" Gwaine responded, moving forwards into the room towards his king, "Sire, I have news. Urgent news".

Arthur stopped in his movements and appraised his friend carefully, "Go on".

Gwaine took a deep breath, hand coming to rest on the hilt of his sword as he worked to slow his breathing.

"I have just returned with a scouting party" he began, "we were patrolling the borders to the east, near to Cenred's kingdom".

Arthur bristled slightly, Cenred's name conjuring a bitter taste on his tongue, as well as bitter memories in his head.  
>He had not informed anyone of Cenred's involvement in his recent capture- he did not quite understand it himself. He had, however, sent out parties to patrol the border with Cenred's kingdom, should the dark king be planning anything sinister.<p>

Sir Gwaine had paused in his speech, and was watching his king carefully. Arthur focused his attention back on the knight, and nodded at him to continue.

"We were nearing the end of the border" the man carried on, "when we noticed black smoke on the horizon, barely a few leagues into King Cenred's lands".

Arthur froze.

"Though it was not in our lands, I felt compelled to investigate, sire, and I and two others crossed the border, leaving the rest of the party to continue on without us".

When the king said nothing Gwaine continued, "It did not take us long to find the source of the smoke" he commented, "a village, Sire. It had been razed to the ground. Everything was destroyed. Those who had survived were already moving to find shelter. In truth, there was nothing that we could do for them. I thought little of it until we had re-joined the rest of the scouting party and were returning to Camelot."

Gwaine paused and moved towards his king, gaze solemn,

"There were more, Arthur, more villages; and in Camelot's lands."

"How many?" Arthur's voice was quiet as he spoke.

"There were three; that I saw" came Gwaine's reply.

Percival's eyes snapped to Gwaine, "that you saw?" he questioned.

His friend's eyes looked troubled as they met his gaze, before moving back to settle on the king. "As we returned back towards the city we crossed paths with another scouting party. They had been patrolling the lands to the south." Gwaine swallowed, "they had come across two villages, sire, similarly destroyed, and had heard rumours of the same thing happening to the west".

Arthur moved back and sat on one of the table's empty chairs heavily.

Gwaine moved closer,

"Some were not burned" the knight tried to console, "merely raided as whoever they were passed through".

Leon spoke up then, "did they say how many men were responsible for these attacks?"

Gwaine shook his head, "not in exact numbers, but all of the accounts that we managed to obtain suggest that there could not have been more than a handful of men."

"How can so few be responsible for this much destruction?" Percival commented, eyes flicking between his friends in confusion.

"How many dead?" the Arthur enquired softly, eyes now focused to the floor.

"Very few, sire." Came Gwaine's reply, "most were able to escape the fires before the houses collapsed".

The king nodded, "there at least, is some comfort in the matter" he spoke. Seeming to collect himself he stood from his chair and moved back to inspect the map.

"There must be more than one group doing this to have covered so much ground in such a short space of time" Arthur declared. He turned to Gwaine, "You say you have knowledge of five more attacks?"

The knight nodded.

Arthur pulled up the chair beside him, "Come. Show me".

They continued talking long into the evening, until weariness called them to their beds for the night.

"We will scout out ourselves tomorrow" Arthur stated, "Let us see if we can intercept some of them before they are able to cause any more damage".

The knights all nodded in agreement, and with murmured 'good nights' and 'good evenings', stood and began leaving the hall. Gwaine was the last to the door, halting as Arthur called out to him,

"Gwaine!"

The knight turned back to his king expectantly,

"The town" Arthur began, "the one you went to help, in Cenred's kingdom". The other king's name rolled off of his tongue bitterly.

"Sire?"

"What was it called?"

Gwaine's face tightened only slightly at his king's question, eyes flashing fleetingly with sympathy as they steadily kept the other man's gaze.

"Ealdor, Sire. It was Ealdor".

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><p><strong>TA DA! <strong>

**Ok, ok I know it wasn't much, and no Morgana yet I'm afraid, but hopefully (serious fingers crossed) more should be coming soon!**

**Thanks for reading! **


	10. Chapter 10

'**Three updates in a week!?' I hear you all gasp. **

**Yes I'm back again, hello! **

**Slightly stunned myself that I've written this much in a week – for me it's a lot, I am inherently lazy. **

**Oh and to mersan123 – hope this answers some of your questions! **

**Enjoy!**

**Regrettably I do not own Merlin. All rights belong to the BBC.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

The water bucket was heavy, the tips of her fingers staining white from the strain as she carried it across the empty courtyard.

She sighed heavily and put it down, her other hand coming up to massage the red line imprinted into the opposite palm.

Merlin usually helped her carry in the water, taking it from her despite her protests and smiling cheekily, eyes bright.

Gwen hoped that her friend was safe, wherever he was. Neither she nor any of the knights had been able to get much out of Arthur regarding the manservant's whereabouts. All that the king had said was that Merlin was no longer a friend to Camelot or her people, and should he be seen then he was not to be trusted.

They were all equally as perplexed, Merlin was the most trustworthy person that they knew. All that they knew for sure was that Arthur had been unusually quiet since his return, and tensed visibly each time his servant's name was mentioned.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hooves on the damp cobblestones. Gwen turned to see who would be entering the city so late to see Elyan arriving, jumping from his horse and swiftly making his way towards the steps.

"Elyan!" she called out, waving to her brother with a smile.

The knight stopped, looking towards the voice, his own small smile blooming across his face at the sight of his sister.

"Gwen" he greeted, moving over to embrace her warmly, his larger frame dwarfing her petite form.

"You are back so soon" she commented, frowning slightly as she took in his wearied appearance, "Is something wrong?"

Elyan sighed heavily, a spark of fondness rushing through him at his sister's concern.

"I must speak with Arthur immediately" he said, "There are troublesome reports from the kingdom".

Gwen stooped to take hold of the bucket again before moving with her brother up the stairs to the doorway.

"Is it about the raids on the villages?" she asked, her heart twisting in sympathy at the thought of more innocent people being forced out of their homes.

The knight nodded sombrely,

"Yes. Two more at least have been destroyed to the North."

Gwen gasped quietly. Her brother stopped by the doors to take her shoulders firmly and turn her towards him.

"The people are afraid, Gwen" he began, "They are afraid of losing everything. These attacks are not slowing down, anyone could be at risk."

The maid looked at her brother carefully, eyes locked on his face,

"That isn't everything, is it?" she questioned, there was something he had not said.

Elyan looked at her, eyes anxious.

"People are beginning to talk" he explained, "There are rumours, Gwen."

"Rumours of what?" she asked back.

"Magic."

* * *

><p>Gwaine was pensive as he walked slowly back towards his chambers from where he had just bumped in to a flustered Elyan, mind reeling with all that had happened in the last few days.<p>

Camelot was under attack; it was burning, and yet from who or what no one was certain.

Magic, that was what Elyan had said.

Gwaine's first thoughts were of Morgana, the memory of her flashing eyes and callous words filling his senses. It is not unlikely that she would be behind this. Surely she is the only one who hates Arthur enough to prey on his people so cruelly.

And yet.

Something was nagging at the knight's conscience. Something he dared not believe, for the pain of it being true.

No one had seen Merlin since the day that he and Arthur had been taken. When the king had returned three days later without his servant Gwaine had been horrified. Horrified that his closest friend had been left somewhere, alone and probably injured, and horrified at his king's apparent lack of concern over this fact.

He had argued - of course he had. Merlin was his best friend, he wasn't about to let him be abandoned like that without putting up a decent fight for him first.

But Arthur was adamant. Merlin was branded a traitor; an enemy, and all of the knights were banned from searching for him, on pain of banishment themselves.

So Gwaine had bitten his tongue, though it killed him to do so.

He had always had his suspicions about Merlin. Somehow, he seemed sometimes to be a little _too _lucky, or a little _too _confident in life-threatening situations; especially for someone of his size and total lack of coordination with a sword. The manservant's friends- himself included- also seemed to be blessed with lucky coincidence and fortune more often than not, particularly when said manservant was at their side at the time.

No, Gwaine had long suspected that these circumstances in fact had very little to do with luck, and all to do with a lanky best friend of his that tended to follow Arthur and his knights wherever they went.

Of course, he had never said anything, for fear of exposing Merlin. He did not fear him, for Gwaine knew that the sorcerer could not do evil even if he wanted to. He was Merlin for goodness' sake, he's as good as they come.

Though under the right circumstances, or rather the wrong ones, even the best person can become bitter; become warped. Of this Morgana was living proof.

The knight suspected he knew why Arthur rejected Merlin that day; why he branded him an enemy and left him for dead. He also knows how much Arthur meant to Merlin; how much Merlin adored his king.

Gwaine paused as he came to the door of his chambers, blinking slowly and panting out a short sigh as he unhooked the latch and walked in, kicking his boots to the floor and flopping down messily on the bed.

It would have killed Merlin, he knows, to have been rejected so fully by his king; his best friend. The servant trusted Arthur completely, and to have lost his faith will have shattered him.

Something in the knight's chest clenched at the thought of his friend's despair, a mixture of pain.

And fear.

Bitterness and resentment can change a person.

The knight's mind flashed back to the day before- back at Ealdor- as he had stood observing the last of the flames as they licked out the hollows of the ashy ruins that had once been a prospering village.

He and the other knights had been walking through the wreckage, trying to douse the last of the fires and search for any survivors. The smoke had been thick and acrid, burning his eyes as they flickered across the scene of devastation.

Something had caught his eye; something red, over by the treeline.

Blinking away the stinging tears the knight had tried to focus, vision blurred and swimming slightly.

Sure enough there was something there, or rather someone. Backing away slowly, hand lowering from where it had been raised, outstretched towards the dying fires, a figure had retreated into the shadows, golden irises fading as they moved.

A figure with a red scarf, and raven black hair.

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><p><strong>So just another little snippet there really – sorry no more Morgana or Merlin yet, though you will find out what they have been up to in the next chapter I promise!<strong>

**Thanks for reading! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**I'm back for another instalment! A little overdue I admit, though that appears to be a bit of a bad habit of mine. Sincerest apologies. **

**Anyway, an extra-long chapter for you all for being so patient! Hope you enjoy!**

**I do not own Merlin, regrettably.**

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><p>The fire is warm, the dry heat a welcome presence on his cool skin, damp from the evening dew. He bites back a groan as he moves his arm to turn the small rabbit roasting in the flames, a curse leaving his lips as he feels a fresh stickiness beneath his tunic and twists his head to see a dark patch beginning to blossom into the material.<p>

Merlin sighs as he brings his hand up to clutch at the offending stain, the air leaving his lungs evolving into a hiss as his fingers squeeze around the wound tightly, as though their strength alone could will the bleeding to stop and the injury to heal.

He isn't sure how long he has been like this; hiding in the woods like a criminal. The first few days were a blur of pain and fearful stumbling between the trees, followed by freezing nights and feverish dreams.

Since he became lucid enough to count it has been twelve days. Twelve days of solitude and reflection; for the sorrow and fierce hurt of Arthur's rejection to simmer into the ball of cool rage and resentment that has taken up residence in his chest, and is constantly sparking.

"_Will you leave me here to die?"_

"_That would be no more than you deserve"._

It hurt. More than any wound ever could.

And then he had left him. Arthur had picked himself up, and walked away.

Merlin had watched until the king had vanished behind the city walls, before gritting his teeth against the pain and transporting himself to Gaius' chamber, where he had promptly collapsed from the exhaustion; breath leaving his lungs in fierce pants of pain.

He wished Gaius were here now. He would know what to do. He would know how to console him, and how to help him attempt to bottle the emotions threatening to crush his chest.

Releasing his arm from his vice-like grip he raised his good hand to rub at his eyes wearily, before moving to take his meal from the fire, biting into the warm meat hungrily. It was the first hot meal for days, the constant travelling making it hard to set up traps. There was also the risk of lighting a fire, as he was often too close to the villages where someone might see his solitary pillar of smoke rising from the trees.

No one would notice him tonight, however. The sky was full of smoke, huge black columns of it rising into the rosy dusk.

Camelot was burning.

_Not only Camelot_

A fresh wave of sorrow rippled through him as he remembered the sight of his home, Ealdor, razed to the ground.  
>As soon as he had been able he had made his way towards his home, craving the warmth of his mother's embrace, the softness of his bed, and distance from the source of his anguish; from Arthur.<p>

_The smell of the smoke reached him before he could see it, drifting towards him on the breeze, along with the cries and shouts of the people, his people. He moved as quickly as he could then, eyes watering from the pain throbbing through his chest as his shattered ribs shifted and scraped with each laboured heave of breath. The sight that met the sorcerer made his blood freeze in panic. The heat from the blaze reached him even from where he stood, huge tendrils of orange light licking their way menacingly into the sky as they emerged from the clouds of choking black smoke. _

_Somewhere amidst the blaze a building finally gave in, its walls collapsing in a great eruption of dancing embers. Across the clearing a woman wailed sorrowfully, Merlin's eyes flickering over to peer into the gloom, desperately trying to seek out any survivors. There! He could see her, his mother, Hunith, huddled amongst the trees with the other women, her favourite shawl wrapped around her shoulders tightly as she watched her home burn in front of her.  
>She was safe. He sagged against a tree in relief as the flaring panic began to subside. <em>

_Shouts from amongst the smoke refocused his attention as he turned to hear the men shouting at each other for water. They needed help._

_Pushing himself up the sorcerer stretched out his hand, eyes glowing as his magic surged through him. _

_Nothing happened. _

_Merlin frowned in confusion, before raising his hand again, voice directing the words louder now, more forcefully. His eyes glowed gold, he felt his magic rush up again, only to die away just as quickly. Again and again he tried, his attempts becoming more and more desperate as the fire began to die down naturally and the ash start to settle. He was still there when the smoke had begun to clear and people had begun picking their way through the wreckage. By now his weak arm had moved to lean against a tree, trembling from exhaustion as his magic continued to fail him again and again. Eventually he stopped, breath short and head thick. He felt drained, as though he had used all of the magic that had been summoned, only there was no evidence of it ever being there. It was as if he had been simply casting it into the air. _

_It had been a flash of red that had finally distracted him from his thoughts, his eyes focussing on the bright colour as it faded in and out of view from behind the smoke. The colour was incredibly familiar to him, the reason as to why not piercing through the haze of exhaustion and pain until the silver glint of armour flashed at him in the sunlight. _

_A knight. A Camelot knight. _

_A strong gust of wind whipped its way across the clearing, revealing the owner of the armour briefly; a tall man with a mop of long brown hair, his hazel eyes cast in the servant's direction._

"_Gwaine", Merlin had breathed softly, blinking to clear his vision. _

_A spark of longing shot through the sorcerer to step out and move towards the knight- his friend, but fear kept his feet glued to the floor. He did not know what Arthur had told anyone of his sudden disappearance, if anything, but he could not take that risk, even with one of his closest friends. He lowered his arm slowly, realising it was still raised, outstretched towards the smoking remains of his home, before moving carefully backwards into the shadows of the trees. His eyes did not leave the figure in front of him until he turned to move as swiftly back into the woods as his injuries would allow him, his whole body praying with hope that he had not been seen._

Merlin sighed regretfully. How that must have appeared to his friend, seeing him running like that after having been standing watching the dying blaze, arm outstretched purposefully. If Gwaine did not see him as the enemy before then by now he surely must. His eyes prick hotly at the knowledge that he has lost another friend. Rage and sorrow fill him, an anguished roar grating out of his chest harshly. His blue irises flare gold briefly in his distress and around him the trees creak ominously as a sudden wind races through the air, whilst the modest fire before him flares into the sky like a beacon before dying suddenly, leaving nothing behind but whispering trails of grey smoke.

The new darkness is silent and cold. The sorcerer brings his knees up to his chest, ignoring the dull ache from his ribs. He is wracked with longing for his king, despite everything that he had done. Arthur's face flashes before his eyes, wild and full of revulsion. He can feel those strong hands, once so gentle, where they had wrapped around his neck, squeezing tightly.

A quiet sob escapes his throat as he buries his head in his knees, eyes closing tightly against the memories, desperately seeking out kinder ones- happier ones.

Slowly Merlin lowers himself to the floor, shivering slightly. His eyes glow gold once again and the fire dances merrily back into life, warming the lonely sorcerer as he gives way to his exhaustion. Curling up tightly amongst the leaves the young man gives in to sleep, trying to forget the hate in those eyes and the strength in those hands; the suffocating fear that will surely follow him into his dreams.

…_..Arthur._

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><p>"<strong>Arthur! No, please!"<strong>

**A feral snarl escapes his throat at the sight of the man in front of him, his long limbs kicking out frantically as pale fingers claw at the hands around his throat. **

_**Merlin. **_

**Anger flows through him violently. He leans his weight into the other man, pressing him more forcefully against the wall, one hand increasing its pressure on the slender neck while the other reaches up to grasp a fistful of black hair, wrenching the man's head back sharply. **

_**You betrayed me.**_

**He can feel the tendons in the servant's neck straining beneath his hand. Part of him wants to stop, but the rage is all consuming, flooding his mind and staining his vision.  
>He leans in to rest his mouth against the other man's ear. <strong>

"**How dare you speak to me, Traitor." **

**The words grate out of his throat harshly. He pulls away a fraction in confusion. **

_**That voice. Father?**_

**The struggles of his victim are weakening now, hands moving from their grip on his own to scrabble weakly at the tunic covering his arm. **

"**Pl-p-ease". The word escapes the other's throat desperately, hoarse and choked. **

"**This is no more than you deserve." Uther's voice barks out of his own mouth harshly. He tries to move away in panic, but he cannot move his hands; cannot release his grip on the pale neck.**

_**Merlin?! No… NO!**_

**The blue eyes before him begin to lose focus. Slender arms drop limply, thudding dully as they swing back into the cold wall. **

_**MERLIN! **_

**Desperately he tries to relinquish his grip on his servant's neck, only the more he struggles the tighter it seems to become. **

"**Ar-a-ar-th"**

**He can feel a triumphant grin spreading across his face, his lips curling up into a cruel sneer.**

"**Die." The word spits out of his mouth. **

**The blue eyes before him finally close, as the man's body goes slack in his grip, head lolling forward lifelessly. **

…_**..No…**_

**He feels more than hears his father's laughter vibrating through his chest as he is finally able to move away to stare numbly at the body before him, pale and crumpled. **

**Inside he is screaming.**

_**What have I done?**_

Arthur wakes suddenly, his whole body jerking upwards violently.

"Merlin!"

Shaking hands move to card through his hair as he struggles to right his breathing, the sound of his soft panting the only noise in the silent room.

Closing his eyes heavily he lowers himself back into the soft mattress shakily. Turning onto his side, the king presses his face into the pillow as his limbs curl up to hug his body protectively, as though desperately trying to hold all of the pieces together.

…_.Merlin._

* * *

><p>She paces impatiently, dress rustling with every movement, the long material carving paths through the thick dust lining the floor.<p>

It had been entertaining, for a while, to return to her old shelter in the woods, the familiarity of its simple walls somehow comforting despite their darkness and lack of warmth.

For Morgana, however, the novelty was wearing a little thin.

A silhouette appeared in the doorway, she snapped her green glare to it.

"Well" she demanded "anything!?"

The man shrank a little, body tense.

"Several parties have returned, my Lady" the man began, "none have been successful in locating the sorcerer."

Morgana hissed impatiently, head flicking from the messenger's face to glare irritably at a patch of browning moss on the wall.

"Tell them to keep looking" she replied, "I want them gone by dawn. Check every house, every farm. He will be found."

The man- one of Cenred's knights- hesitated before suggesting nervously,

"Perhaps, My Lady, it is possible that he stays within the city?"

"You know the rumours as well as I do" Morgana snapped back, "Arthur returned to Camelot alone."

She turned to face the flames in the hearth behind her, "wherever Merlin is, it isn't there. Even he would not be foolish enough to stay - too much would be at risk." The image of Gaius' aged face bloomed at the front of her mind. She blinked.

"He would never leave Camelot's borders." She continued, "He's too loyal to his precious king"  
>She sneered scornfully, teeth flashing with disdain.<p>

"So he is hiding" the knight supplemented.

"Yes he is hiding" Morgana bit back, green eyes flashing in the firelight, "and, as it seems, shall not be found, even if I were to comb every corner of this kingdom."

The sorceress continued to stare into the flames silently. Instead of taking this as his cue to leave, the knight remained in the doorway, hovering apprehensively.

Morgana sighed impatiently, and eyed the man coldly.

"Well?"

"My lady, King Cenred also informed me that a party of knights was sighted leaving the Camelot's walls this morning, heading into the woods to the west. The King was among them".

Upon hearing this further news the sorceress grinned gleefully,

"And we shall see that they receive a proper reception".

The knight nodded and made to leave, "shall I inform the king?"

Morgana eyed him disdainfully before turning again to face the flames in the hearth behind her.

"You may report back to your king" she conceded, "but tell him that I shall go alone".

The knight hesitated slightly, before bowing and scurrying off further down into the trees.

The sorceress' green eyes flashed in the firelight, hands moving to twist a red pendant through her slender white fingers.

Turning sharply, Morgana strode from the gloomy den, black skirts swaying with each purposeful step. Her hands dropped to her sides as she moved, palms twitching expectantly.

* * *

><p>The scouting party had been quiet all morning; a solemn line of red against the green, wooded landscape.<p>

The king was leading the group. He had barely spoken since he had appeared from his chambers, pale and distant with dark circles beneath his eyes. With a quick word to Leon he had mounted his horse and left the courtyard, leaving the others to trail behind him. Gwaine had been watching Arthur carefully from his place beside him, making sure to keep a little behind so as to allow the man his space.

The king was distracted. Every so often his eyes would flicker up to scan the path ahead of him, before dropping to stare vacantly at a spot somewhere behind his horse's left ear. Occasionally his jaw would clench as though he were experiencing something painful and his fists would squeeze themselves shut tightly before opening again widely, causing the reins so slip from their grasp and Arthur to start slightly before moving to take them up again.

"Sire!"

Elyan's voice cut through the silence as the king halted his movements to turn to the knight behind him. Gwaine turned to see Elyan's hand pointing to the sky in front of them, to a small column of smoke to be exact, twisting into the sky above the trees.

"They cannot be more than a mile away, Sire." Leon spoke, moving his horse to come and stand next to the king's.

Arthur nodded, "we shall investigate" he said, before clicking to his horse and moving steadily forward through the trees towards the smoke.

"Ah! Brother Dearest."

The menacing voice caused the men to stop short, the sound of swords scraping from their scabbards filling the air as several pairs of eyes cast around warily.

A rustling up ahead caught the men's attention, and they watched to see a familiar figure step out from behind a tree on the rise above them.

"Morgana!" Arthur's voice spat out, cutting through the air sharply.

A playful smirk spread across the sorceress' lips,

"So nice of you to drop in."

The smirk spread into a grin as the woman's eyes flared gold and the men were thrown violently from their mounts.

"We have much to discuss."

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><p><strong>Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing and following this, never imagined so many of you would like this! Hopefully more will be up soon <strong>

**Thanks for reading! **


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